Nicotine
by CordytheSlayer
Summary: To the lyrics of Panic! At the Disco's "Nicotine". Spike compares Buffy to the addictive substance, and how he can't give it up. High T rating.


**A little bit AU and OOC. Just for clarification, bold and italics are the lyrics, just italics are thoughts and stuff. **

**Disclaimer: Lyrics from Panic! At the Disco's Nicotine. And Joss Whedon won't give me Buffy. -.-**

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_**I taste you on my lips,** _

He had his eyes shut, hoping Harmony wouldn't notice he had woken up. She was tracing circles on his back, and he was pretending that it was Buffy. Buffy lying next to him, not leaving him.

The dream had been so vivid. The feel of her lips on his felt so real, the passion and the lust all felt real. He could _taste_ it. And he hated that.

He hated that he loved her. Of all the people in the world and beyond, it had to be her. They were each other's worst enemy. Maybe because they were more similar than they'd like to admit.

_**and I can't get rid of you. **_

He couldn't shake the feeling of her on him away. Not just of her lips, but of her touch. The way her hands had wandered, and her breath on his neck.

He couldn't get rid of her. But he had to get rid of her! His reputation and-and...

And it didn't really matter anymore.

_**So I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do.**_

Her lips were electric. They shocked him every time she pressed them to his.

But damn them! Damn her lips and kisses. And all those times she left him and made him feel awful. _You're beneath me._

Spike picked up the bottle of alcohol and threw it against the crypt's wall. He ignored Harmony's shriek as the drink soaked her.

"Spikey!" She pouted.

"Need some air." He forcefully opened the door and stepped out into the cool, night air.

**_Yeah, you're worse than nicotine._**

He lit the end of his cigarette and breathed in deeply. Though he didn't need to.

He regarded the nicotine stick thoughtfully. It was an addiction. He'd seen the "Stop Smoking!" posters around Buffy's school, and heard about all those rehab centres on the radio. They couldn't stop. They had to have their daily fix.

He regarded her thoughtfully. She was an addiction. He saw her everywhere he turned. He heard the rumours of her latest kill, of her fight against the newest Big Bad. He couldn't stop thinking about her. He had to have his daily Buffy.

The nicotine couldn't kill him. Perks of being a vampire. But she could kill him.

She was worse than nicotine.

**_Just one more hit and then we're through._**

He watched from the bed as she slipped her clothes back on. She had come from the Bronze, hair curled and a fancy dress. But her hair was mussed and her dress torn.

"Leavin'?" With some satisfaction, he saw her flinch. He doubted much could scare her. Probably thought he was asleep. Didn't know he hadn't slept that entire night, just watching her sleep. Trying to convince himself she was really there. And her expression, it has been so...peaceful. No furrowed brow, no narrowed eyes.

"Yeah. Dawn will be worried." She looked away.

"The bit can wait another hour." Spike got up and stood behind her. He tucked a curl behind her ear and he knew her resolve had crumbled.

"Fine. But this is the last time. It's over after."

He smirked, just to make it look like he won, but he knew he had lost. They both had.

'**_Cause you could never love me_** _**back**_.

"I love you." He pleaded.

Her disgusted expression broke him.

_**Cut every tie I have to you.**_

Spike angrily shoved about five bottles of alcohol, one shirt, and a pack of cigarettes into a bag. That was it! He was leaving! No more Big Bad in Sunnydale, until they got a new one.

Well, he had to grudgingly admit he had never been a Big Bad. Not since falling for the Slayer.

Spike looked at the remnants of the shrine he had managed to save, and tossed them out. He didn't need shit like that making him miserable.

He was just about to close the door behind him, when looked back at the pile of miscellaneous items.

He took back the picture of Dawn and Buffy.

'_**Cause your love's a fucking drag.**_

"What?!" Buffy uncharacteristically shrieked.

"You heard me." Spike leaned against the door frame. "A. Fucking. Drag."

"Do you even know why I'm here?" Buffy crossed her arms. Spike noticed the lack of a stake.

"You found out I came back as a ghost, then gained a solid body. You don't believe it so you had to see it for yourself." He guessed, taking a drag from his cigarette. He was keeping his walls up, no need to fall for her again. She had been his drug, his addiction. _And he didn't need it anymore._

"I came to tell you that after seeing you burn, and coming to terms with a few things..." She rambled on a bit, he knew she was beating around the bush. Spike felt his walls dissolve as he drank in the sight of her for the first time in a while. Angry, but still beautiful.

"Yes?"

"That I missed you and IthinkIloveyou." She rushed out. Spike froze for a second, then scoffed.

"No, you don't." Spike was thrown back to when she said she loved him. _Thanks for saying it._

"No I _do!_" Buffy crossed the threshold and Spike was too surprised by her outburst that he didn't take a step back. "I thought I only said that to stop you from burning, I admit that. But, I never realized how I felt about you until you were gone. You're like a...a..." Buffy floundered for a bit, searching for the word.

"A drug."

"Uh, yeah I guess. If you want to be all blunt-y." She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer.

"I'll say it again. Spike, I think I love you."

**_But I need it so bad._**

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**Please review! i accept constructive criticism. **


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